The ramblings of a woman on the downslide of life who hopes to get it all straight in her own head.

There's no place like home.

Home is where my husband and I reside; wherever that may be.

Friday, June 15, 2012

One of these days....

I came out here tonight to sit and work on some research that I had to do and found this poor child with dreams of breaking out of this prison he's in.

I contemplated stopping his obvious plan to use his dump truck as a means of getting him over the gate. (you know the old "you're going to hurt yourself doing that" thing) But all I could hear in my head was my son the sergeant saying "Let him be a kid and get hurt." So I left him alone and just took pictures. (I know how weird is that)

That is one forlorn looking kid. Even my hard heart was a little bothered by his sad face, just a little.

Then he looked back. Ooops! busted. He stepped right out of that truck and parked it in the sandbox. I think he read my mind. Well, all I could think was, "He lived to climb another day!"